Revelations
by famous99
Summary: When Ryan visits his brother in Chino he finds out the truth he wasn't expecting.
1. Default Chapter

_Okay, So I'm starting another multi-chapter fiction. I'll be posting it on fanfic too. Thanks to **SisterRose** for acting as beta. All mistakes are of course mine.  
Disclaimer: I don't harbor any delusions about own the O.C. or any of its characters. It all belongs to Fox and Josh Schwartz.

* * *

Ryan leaned back in his chair and groaned inwardly, putting a hand on his stomach. He felt like a stuffed turkey. The table had been laden with enough food to feed a small army. It was just like every other holiday in the Cohen household, but he had never learned how to eat just enough to satisfy his hunger. He always had to taste a little bit of everything so no one was insulted._

Everyone contributed to Chrismukkah dinner. Even Kirsten, now that she was taking cooking lessons with all her extra free time since Seth and he were away at college. Sandy had been in charge of the rack of lamb. Seth had been in charge of grilling, it was the only thing he could do that came close to cooking. It was a skill he had acquired during his summer in Portland. Ryan had surreptitiously supervised Kirsten while she made the yams, no one quite trusted her cooking abilities yet, and he had contributed with potato latkes. The Nana had taught him how to make them on her last visit and he thought it would add to Hanukkah portion of the celebrations.

_"Always grate the potatoes by hand, Ryan. Sure you can use a food processor or some other new fangled contraption, but there's nothing like hand grated potato latkes."_

_They were standing in middle of the Cohen kitchen, just the two of them. The Nana smelled like a mixture of hot oil and smoke._

_"Does __Sandy__ know you're still smoking?" he asked. It had been a year, and the Nana was in remission, which her doctor called nothing less than a miracle._

_She winked. "Does he know you still smoke?"_

_Ryan looked down, trying to hide the blush that was creeping into his face. "I really did quit this time," he mumbled. "Kirsten bought me the nicotine patch."_

_Sophie threw her head back and laughed, her jet black hair falling all over her face. Ryan grinned wide, glad to be able to make __Sandy__'s mother happy, even if it was at his expense. _

_"Come on," she urged. "Let's get back to work. "__Sandy__ will be home any minute and it will be time to light the menorah."_

_She scooted behind Ryan and put her hand over his while he grated the potatoes. When they were done, she showed him how to crack and egg and to check it for blood. One of the laws of being Kosher she explained. Ryan shrugged and did as she told him, and didn't bother reminding her that they didn't keep Kosher._

_"Just a pinch of pepper and salt to taste. And no need to add any oil, they'll be plenty of that when you fry the latkes." She poured the oil into the frying pan, not measuring what went in. _

_"Kirsten's going to freak if she sees how much oil goes in there."_

_"Oh please." Sophie waved her hand. "Kirsten is the queen of takeout. You're going to tell me she's that weight conscience."_

_Ryan cocked his head to the side and raised his brows. _

_Sophie grinned and patted his cheek. "I love it when you give me the look. Just don't tell Kirsten okay?" Ryan nodded. "Now, the key to successful potato latkes is in the temperature of the oil. You can check if it's hot enough by throwing a few drops of water into the oil." She threw a few drops of water into the pan and the oil hissed and crackled. "It's ready."_

_She showed Ryan how to drop spoonful after spoonful of potato mixture into the pan. And describe how it was supposed to look before it you turned it over. _

Ryan always followed Sophie's instructions to a T. His latkes came out just like hers. Crisp on the outside, not soggy from the oil, and soft on the inside. They were best when served hot, straight out of the pan, steam rising, when you cut the pancakes open. It was a favorite at the Cohen table and there wasn't one left, even though Ryan had grated ten potatoes.

Everyone was moaning, not only Ryan, from the abundance of food and no one moved to clear the table. Seth looked like he was about to pop a button off of his trousers. Their holiday dinners were usually filled with guests, but Julie and Caleb had flown to Japan to be with Hailey and Jimmy had taken Marissa and Caitlyn to their grandmother. Summer was with her father and while there were others they could have invited, they had just opted for a quiet Cohen dinner for four.

"So what are your plans for tomorrow?" asked Kirsten. She was the only one who had not over eaten. Ryan had noticed that she picked at her food like a bird, though she had downed her fair share of wine and margaritas.

"Summer and I are spending the day together," Seth volunteered.

"Doing what?" grilled Kirsten.

He shrugged. "This and that."

Ryan smirked from his seat. They'd been home for two weeks, and he suspected Summer and Seth were hoping for the privacy that they had grown accustomed to at the dorm. He saw Kirsten open her mouth to demand more details, but she closed it again and Ryan knew she finally understood. He noticed color creeping into her cheeks and it took all of his will power not to break out into raucous laughter.

"What about you?" She asked turning her attention to him.

Ryan looked down at his lap. "I'm going to Chino to visit Trey."

"At the jail?" Kirsten asked.

Ryan shook his head. "No. He got out last week. He's at a halfway house near where we used to live." He looked up. "I – I was hoping to borrow one of the cars if Seth needed ours all day."

"Why don't I come with you, Ryan?" Sandy leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table.

"There's no need." Ryan felt his heart racing. Sandy had never met Trey and even after all these years of being part of the Cohen family, Ryan wasn't ready for his two worlds to cross.

"I'd like to. We haven't had any one-on-one time in ages. I'll bring my work along so that when you go visit with your brother I can just sit in the car. I'll give you and Trey all the time you need. But we'll have two hours there and back to do some catching up."

Ryan sighed. How could he refuse Sandy when he put it like that? So he nodded his head and mumbled, "Sure. That would be great." Even though he didn't mean it.

There was no reason to leave early the next morning. Trey was not an early riser. Ryan was hoping to get there around noon, so the worst of his brother's hangover would be over. He assumed prison had not changed Trey much. And after five years of being locked up, he assumed that Trey was getting drunk at every opportunity.

He hadn't seen Trey since his first year living with the Cohens when Trey had called him on Thanksgiving and asked him to come for a visit. He had known his brother had wanted something and that something had landed him a black eye and could have landed him back in Juvie. It was the last time they had talked. It was when Trey had said they would be better off not seeing each other.

But when Ryan had started college, he decided to start writing to Trey and occasionally they sent letters back and forth to each other. So it wasn't a big surprise when Trey had called to say he had served his time and he was out. Though it had surprised Ryan when Trey had asked him to come out for a visit.

"For old times sake."

Ryan had only hesitated for a moment. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Trey. It was that he didn't want to return to Chino. The last time he had been there was four years ago, after Theresa had lost their baby. His maybe child, since they had never determined paternity. He had come back to pack up his things. Sandy had waited in the car while Eva explained that Theresa was too distressed to see him.

_"Theresa is moving to __Atlanta__ tomorrow to live with her cousin. Don't try to call her. Just make a clean break. It's what Theresa wants."_

It had been what he wanted too. He had wanted to immerse himself in his life in Newport and as part of the Cohen family. He wanted to forget his past. He wanted to pretend that he had been born a Cohen. That Sandy and Kirsten were his parents. That Seth was his brother, not Trey.

"So how were your classes last semester?" Sandy asked once they were on the freeway.

Ryan relaxed his head on the headrest. "Pretty good. It was a tough load. But I eased up a bit this semester. I'm trying to catch up on my humanities requirements. It should be a little easier than all those science requirements. And I have to take a drawing class for my architectural program, so I'm hoping that won't be too much work."

"It should be enjoyable at least."

"I guess."

Ryan turned his head and offered Sandy a wan smile. Ever since his junior year at Harbor he'd been on the fast track to becoming an architect. And at first it was great. It had given him purpose and the Cohens had been so proud. Seth bragged to everyone who would listen that his brother was a science geek and Kirsten included him in discussion pertaining to her work, asking him ideas. Sandy would walk around like a proud rooster, with his chest puffed out every time Ryan brought home another great report card. But sometime between Ms. Fisher's decision that he wanted to become an architect and his second year in college, he was no longer sure that was what he wanted in life. And while he was pretty sure he didn't want to become an architect, he wasn't sure what it was that he did want.

"So how's the practice going? The new partner working out okay?"

Sandy shrugged and went into a detailed account of all the happenings at his office. Shortly after he had gotten Caleb acquitted of all charges, Sandy had started his own firm. Sandy relished the adrenaline of helping those who appeared to be doomed. He was good at it too. Ryan leaned back in his seat and smiled for real, happy to have diverted the conversation from his life to Sandy's. He had never been comfortable talking about himself.

As Sandy talked, Ryan noticed the landscape changing. The view of the ocean and fields of grass melded into roads of concrete, with wisps of grass and weeds, trying to escape from below the pavement. The streets of Chino were lined with sagging buildings, with crumbling roofs. The city had aged and seemed poorer since Ryan had last been there four years before. The amount of graffiti on the sides of building seemed to have doubled, covering nearly every available inch. There was graffiti on top of graffiti. He wondered if he went up to his old high school if he'd still find the markings he had left the summer before he had moved to Newport.

Ryan directed Sandy to Trey's place and they pulled up exactly an hour after they had departed from home. He unbuckled his seat belt and looked at Sandy, who was already pulling out a sheaf of paperwork.

"Take your time, son. Pretend I'm not here. Okay? Pretend you came on your own. I brought enough work for three days."

"Thanks Sandy. It was nice spending the time with you." He smiled weakly and waved, leaving his foster father alone in the car.

Ryan knew why Sandy had been so adamant about coming with him. It was the same reason he had been insistent on coming with him to pack his things four years ago. He wanted to make sure Ryan would return to Newport. In the back of his mind, and the minds of Kirsten and Seth too, there was always a bit of insecurity that Ryan would choose his first life over the one they had given them. It was the same sense of insecurity that Ryan had felt, because in the back of his mind, he had always worried that Cohens would give up on him. That was until it had been time for him to choose a college. That was when he knew the he was stuck with the Cohens forever.

_"We need to talk, Ryan," Kirsten said as they were clearing dinner from the table. She and Sandy looked pointedly at Seth._

_"I get the message," he said. He scooted over to the doorway, but turned around. "If this is about the lamp in the family room, it's totally my fault. Don't blame Ryan."_

_Sandy__ rolled his eyes. "We'll talk about that later. It's not about the lamp. Go upstairs."_

_Ryan watched Seth go upstairs and heard the bedroom door slam close. Ryan knew that Seth was probably sitting at the top of the stairs, feet ready to spring into action, in case his parents came anywhere near the staircase. No, Seth would not idly sit in his room, while there was a serious discussion going on. He would eavesdrop._

_"What did I do wrong?" Ryan asked. Mentally, he tried to figure it out on his own. But he hadn't gotten into any trouble at school. He was doing well in his classes. He was managing with his part time after school job. He had made it home for dinner everyday and hadn't missed curfew once the entire month since school had started. _

_Kirsten sighed. "Leave the dishes, Ryan. We'll do them later. Come sit down."_

_He gingerly placed the last ceramic plate in the dishwasher and shut it before walking over to his stool at the breakfast bar. He hated the breakfast bar. It always reminded him of the first time he had gotten into real trouble with the Cohens. The time he had snuck into the office at Harbor and had stolen Oliver's file. _

_"Ms. Fisher called."_

_"Oh."_

_"She told us you're not planning on applying for college."_

_Ryan looked down at his hands. They were full of nicks and cuts from his work at the restaurant. He worked in the kitchen and was doing a lot of prep work in the chefs. He was constantly cutting himself on the sharp knives. _

_"Why not?" __Sandy__ asked, trying to force conversation out of Ryan. Ryan was only talkative when he wasn't put on the spot. But Kirsten and Sandy had decided that they wouldn't let Ryan get away without explaining his reasoning. "Why not?" __Sandy__ repeated when Ryan refused to answer."_

_Realizing he would have to say something, Ryan opted for the truth. "Because I can't afford it." He slowly looked up beneath heavy lidded eyes. He pushed his shaggy bangs out of his face._

_"Afford it? You don't have to worry about that."_

_"My job barely makes above minimum wage. I've been saving every penny, but it will barely cover the first semester's tuition at a state college. It'll take a year off and work full-time. I'll go to college eventually."_

_Sandy__ slid into a stool beside Ryan. "There are always scholarships."_

_Ryan shook his head. "I won't get an athletic scholarship. I had to quit the soccer team when I started all those AP courses. And what are the chances of me getting an academic scholarship? I mean, there are loads of kids who are smart. Lots of them get good grades. Even if I can find a scholarship, chances are it won't cover all the costs."_

_"Then we'll pay."_

_"No. No. I can't ask you to do that."_

_"You're not asking. We're telling you. If money is the only issue here, then we're here to tell you it's not an issue." Kirsten leaned forward, gripping the edge of the counter. Her face looked fierce. Ryan was afraid to answer, even though he hated what he was hearing. He wouldn't take their charity forever. He wouldn't be able to repay them if they kept paying for things. "Tomorrow you bring home those applications that Ms. Fisher wants you to fill out. We'll fill them out together."_

_Ryan opened his mouth to protest, but Kirsten didn't let him._

_"If you don't bring home the applications, we'll be forced to ground you. Sandy and I will not allow you to screw with your future because of a false sense of pride. You are our son now. And we will pay for our children's college education. It's what parents do."_

That was when Ryan knew that the Cohens would never give up on him. It wasn't so much what they said, but how they said it. The next day, Ryan didn't bring home the promised applications and Sandy and Kirsten had kept their promise. Ryan was grounded. He didn't want to try and defy them again, so he had sucked it up and asked Ms. Fisher for the applications.

The four of them, Seth, Sandy, Kirsten and Ryan, sat around for a week filling out both of their applications. He cringed when they wrote out the checks and tore them out of their checkbooks as if it was nothing. But they silenced every argument he could muster.

By the time graduation rolled around, he and Seth had settled for the same school, which was close to home. They were given a car to share for their graduation present, so that they could come home often. Even if his last name was still Atwood, Ryan knew he was truly a Cohen. That was why it was so hard to see Trey again, especially with Sandy sitting in the car a few feet away.

"Ryan!" Trey came to the door and enveloped his little brother into a hug. "It's good to see you. Come in."

Ryan stepped into the house, taking in the shabby sofa and rickety coffee table. His dorm had better furniture in the common room. A few burly men, clad in jeans and wifebeaters, and badly in need of a shave, sat around the television watching a football game. There was a lot of shouting and swearing, but there were no signs of alcohol or drugs. Maybe Trey was going to pull it together this time.

"You want a drink?"

"Water would be good." He wondered if he should bring out a drink to Sandy. But knowing Sandy, he had come prepared. "So how's it going?" Ryan asked. "Did you get a job yet?"

"Yeah. I'm working at a garage. Pay's okay. So, are you still studying to be an architect?"

"I am."

"You don't look happy about it."

"It's hard work." Ryan gulped the glass of water at once. "So what are your plans? Are you going to stay here long?"

Trey shook his head. His dark brown hair was long and shaggy. It covered some scars he had garnered while in prison. "Arturo and I are talking about finding a place together. He was supposed to come, but he got stuck babysitting."

Ryan arched his brows. "Babysitting? Arturo?" He laughed, taking a seat at the kitchen table across from where Trey was sitting nursing a cup of coffee. "You've got to be kidding."

"Really!" Trey grinned though, because he knew what his brother was talking about. Things had really changed while they had been away from Chino. "Theresa had to pull an emergency shift at the hospital and she had no one to watch the baby. She's a nurse now. Eva hasn't been well for a while, so she's no use as a babysitter."

It felt like a rock suddenly careened to the pit of Ryan's stomach. "Theresa has a kid?"

Oblivious to his brother's discomfort, Trey nodded. "Yeah. He's a cute little bugger. About four-years-old now. Keeps Arturo on his toes. The kid doesn't let him rest for a second. We took him for ice-cream the other day, and I swear I was about to get a vasectomy."

Ryan forced a laugh out. "She has a kid that old?"

"Yeah," Trey said.

"Who's the father?"

His brother shrugged. "I didn't ask. Though the kid does have a familiar look. I bet we know the dad."

"I bet we do." Ryan stood abruptly, nearly toppling his chair over. "Look, I've gotta go."

"You just got here!"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. But there's something important I've got to take care of. I just remembered."

"Can't it wait?" Trey was running after him, pulling at Ryan's sleeve. "I haven't seen you in nearly five goddamn years, kid."

"This is important Trey. Let go of me."

Recognizing that his brother wasn't kidding around, Trey unhappily let go. Over the years, it was Trey who had done most of the bullying, but on occasion, his brother had gotten his back up and had really laid it into him. Trey had never forgotten the look that came before it and this was it.

"You'll come back for a visit?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I will."

Ryan ran out of the house, straight for Sandy's BMW. He jumped into the passenger seat, startling his foster father.

"Already?" Sandy asked.

"Yeah. But I need to make a stop. You think it's okay if we go to Theresa's place?"

Sandy intently studied the young man next to him, a hundred questions in his eyes. But he didn't make Ryan explain; instead he started the engine and followed his directions.


	2. 2

_Sorry for the delay. I had this sitting around for a while. I have lots of chapter three written, but I'm going to work on my chrismukkah challenge... _

_If I owned the O.C. and its characters, I wouldn't have to worry about raising money for my library! And I could buy all the kids books.  
_Oh and there is a copy of this on livejournal

* * *

Sandy studied Ryan from the corner of his eyes, but didn't force any conversation. Ryan was clenching and unclenching his fists so that they turned white until he released them and let the blood start circulating again. He hadn't seen his son like this in ages. Not since high school.

They drove five-minutes in utter silence. Sandy didn't even know where he was going, but Ryan wasn't offering directions to Theresa's house. Finally Ryan said, "Theresa has a four-year-old son."

Sandy slammed on the breaks, causing both of them to fly forward. Their seatbelts snapped them back into their seats, preventing any real injury. Even so, Ryan's hands flew forward bracing himself on the dashboard and he felt a shooting pain in his wrist.

Sandy rubbed the back of his head. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Ryan swallowed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"

He pulled over to the side of the road and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Did I hear you right? Theresa has four-year-old boy?"

Mutely, Ryan nodded.

"Are you sure?"

He shrugged. "Trey told me. He was so nonchalant. I – I never told him about that summer. I don't think he realizes—"

"Don't jump the gun, Ryan."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ryan's raised his voice a few octaves.

Sandy didn't take the bait. He kept his voice level, despite Ryan's obvious anger. "You were never sure if Theresa was carrying your child. You don't know if she even has a son and you definitely don't know if it's yours."

"That's what I was going to find out."

"Hey, kid. Calm down. I'm on your side." Sandy placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder, but the boy shrugged it off.

Taking a deep breath he said, "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to process all of this."

"So let's go and try to figure this thing out. You know how to get to Theresa's place?"

Ryan nodded. He had lived in Chino, next door to Theresa, for most of his formative years. He could find her house in his sleep. That was if she still lived with her mother. Ryan had not even had the clarity of mind to find out where she lived or where Arturo was babysitting. He had just bolted from Trey's place without thinking things through.

When they were in front of his childhood home, Ryan averted his gaze, forcing himself to focus on something else, so the deluge of memories — of Dawn and her string of boyfriends and finally her kicking him out of the house — would not take over his emotions and thoughts. He fixed his eyes on Theresa's home; the place which was filled with the happy portions of his childhood memories; of school musicals, spicy enchiladas, stolen beers and his first time with a girl.

But those memories weren't enough to wash away the anger that was welling up inside of him. Theresa had lied. She had told him that her baby had died. That it was okay for him to go back to the Cohens. She had never given him the opportunity to do right by his child. He had left Newport before his junior year to be with Theresa so he could do the right thing and not burden the family he had come to love. But she had stolen everything out from under him.

He undid his seatbelt and sprang forward. But Sandy put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Do you know what you're going to say?"

"That I want to see my kid."

"If it is your kid. You can't go in there half-cocked. You need a plan."

Ryan swallowed and sank back into the plush leather seat. He knew Sandy was right. He sometimes hated it that Sandy was always right. "What should I do?"

"Stay calm. Don't start throwing around accusations. We need to get to the bottom of this. Is Theresa even home?"

He shook his head. "According to Trey, Arturo's babysitting."

"So ask to see the kid, but don't start talking about lies and betrayal. Don't go there yet. If this kid is in there, possibly your kid, you don't want to scare him."

"Can – can you come in with me?"

Suddenly, Ryan felt small and afraid, like he had on the first day of Kindergarten. Then Trey had held his hand tightly and had walked his little brother into the classroom. Trey didn't let go of his hand until Ryan had made eye contact with another little kid and Ryan was ready to run off and play by himself. Trey could never be that person in his life anymore. He knew that. Trey was too self-centered and too screwed-up for that. When Ryan had moved to Newport, it had been Sandy who had assumed that roll of protector. There was no one he trusted more than Sandy.

"Of course."

Together Sandy and Ryan dragged their feet up the walk. They came to the door, but neither one reached for the doorbell. Ryan studied his feet, trying to muster the courage to go inside the house. Maybe Arturo wasn't there. Maybe it was all a big mistake and he wasn't going to possibly find out that he was a father. He would close his eyes and open them again and not find out that he had abandoned a son for the first four years of his life.

"Somebody's got to ring the bell if we're going to get anywhere."

They just stood there and laughed together, until suddenly the door swung open, knocking Ryan in the chin.

"Oh shit. Sorry man, I didn't—"Arturo, holding a leaky bag of trash, stopped mid-sentence. "Ryan? Ryan Atwood?"

"Hey, man. How've you been?" Ryan rubbed his chin. It felt as if his teeth had been knocked into the back of his head.

Arturo stretched out his free hand and Ryan took it in his. He was exactly the same as Ryan remembered, only a couple of inches taller than Ryan, five foot ten inches, but his build was stocky. Arturo's pecks bulged in his tattered wife beater, nearly twice as thick as Ryan's own finely toned biceps. His jet black hair was greased back and sometime since he had last seen him, Ryan noticed that his brother's friend started sporting a small goatee.

"It's good to see you. How's life been treating you out of the slammer?"

"Pretty good." Arturo's eyes rested on Sandy.

"Oh. Hey, sorry. This is Sandy Cohen, my foster father." The awkwardness was long gone from the statement. Often, Ryan dropped the foster from the title, but Arturo was from his life before the Cohens. He couldn't pretend with Arturo. "Sandy, this is Theresa's brother, Arturo."

They shook hands.

"Is Theresa home?"

Arturo skipped down the walk and threw out the bag of garbage that was starting to form a smelly puddle around their feet. "No," he called over his shoulder. "She had to go to work last minute. Did she know you were coming?"

"No. Um, so you're babysitting?"

Arturo stopped, one foot in the air. His eyes darted back and forth from Sandy to Ryan. "Um —"

"Trey told me she had a kid."

"Since when are you talking to Trey?" Arturo mumbled a string of expletives under his breath. "I would never have brought J.T. along that day had I known."

"I never told Trey about Theresa and that summer, but we've been in touch for a while. It's obvious he doesn't know who the kid's father could be." Ryan drew in a deep breath, trying to steady his shaking hand as he said, "I want to see him Arturo."

"Well, he's taking a nap. And I'm not going to risk you waking him. I still have another six hours with him. And he's a real little shit when he gets cranky."

Ryan ignored Arturo's offensive comment. J.T. was just a kid, but he knew that didn't make a difference in Arturo's mind. He also knew that Arturo would never hurt a little kid. It was part of his code of ethics.

"I won't wake him. I just want to see him."

"It's not a good idea, Ryan."

"I don't give a damn if it's a good idea or not. It wasn't a good idea for Theresa to hide the truth from me for four years, but she did. And now I found out, so let me see my son."

"We don't know that it's your son."

Ryan whirled around to face Sandy, the back of his open button-down shirt flying behind him. His face was red. His blue eyes blazed as bright hottest flame in the fire. "So then why did she keep it from me? If it wasn't my kid, then why couldn't she tell me that she had one?"

"Eddie doesn't know about it either, Ryan. Theresa decided it was best to keep both of you in the dark. For different reasons, but she was doing the best thing for her and her kid."

"And how is keeping the kid's father away from him the best thing?" He swung back to face Arturo. "A boy needs his father!" Ryan slammed his fist into the metal screen door, leaving a dent. He rubbed the raw red knuckles, cursing silently. He felt more shooting pain in his wrist.

"Ryan, if you don't calm down, I'm just going to take you back home. I won't let you go inside." Sandy took him by the shoulders, forcing Ryan to look him in the face. "I know you're upset. You have every right to be upset, but please calm down for J.T.'s sake."

Ryan tried to regain control of his raggedy breath, knowing Sandy meant what he said. He would drag him back into the car if Ryan didn't settle down.

"What does J.T. stand for?" Ryan asked quietly.

"Juan Tomas."

"After your grandfather?"

Arturo nodded. "If you're real quiet, you can come in. Just to look. Don't wake him. And if he does wake up, just tell him you're my friend. He's just a little kid. Don't start confusing him."

"Thanks, man."

Ryan followed Arturo inside. He was led into Theresa's old bedroom. The king sized bed and the night table were still there, but off in the corner, where he used to throw his dirty clothes, was a small toddler bed. He saw a little boy curled up under the covers. Shaggy black hair fell into his eyes. His skin was olive and though Ryan couldn't see his eyes, he knew they were probably brown just like Theresa's. He tiptoed closer, not daring to wake up the angelic looking child. When he was close to the bed, he squatted down so his eyes were level with the little boy's head.

"Sandy," he whispered. The little boy stirred, but didn't wake up.

Sandy, who was standing just inside the doorway, walked up and bent down behind Ryan. At first he wasn't sure what Ryan wanted him to see. He just watched him tracing the outline of J.T.'s face, without actually touching the young boy. And then he saw it. And Sandy hitched his breath as he realized what he was seeing.

J.T.'s coloring was all Theresa's but he followed Ryan's finger, tracing the straight line of his jaw ending in a square chin. And though the child's face was half buried in the pillow, Sandy could see the high cheekbones that were so much like Ryan's. The nose too belonged to his son. It was straight and long and hooked slightly at the end. The coloring may have been Theresa's but the features were all Ryan.

They sat staring at the little boy, with pudgy little wrists, and peaceful looking face until they could barely feel their legs. Finally, they heard Arturo quietly clearing his throat. Sandy tapped Ryan and motioned that it was time to go.

In the living room, Ryan said, "That's my son."

"We don't know if that's true."

"Look at him Arturo. Sandy, you saw it too."

Sandy hated saying it, but he knew it was the right thing to do. "Ryan, Arturo's right. We don't know anything for certain. Let Theresa call you and then we can arrange for a paternity test. Okay?"

Ryan shook his head so that his sandy bangs fell into his eyes, making him look sixteen again. Sandy threw a hand over Ryan's shoulder, but he felt his shoulders tense and knew it was the wrong thing to do. He just wasn't sure what Ryan needed now; a father or a lawyer. But all his instincts, father and lawyer, told him to get Ryan the hell out of there. To bring him home to Newport and get him far away from Chino so that they could calmly sort everything out. But he knew that if he suggested it, there would be a fight on his hand. So he needed Ryan to come to the realization on his own.

"I'm just looking out for Theresa and her kid, Ryan. They're my family."

"My family too."

"We go a long way back, hombre. It's not that I don't feel for you. It's just that I don't know how I can help you. Theresa has done a hell of a job with this kid. Especially once our mother got sick and she had to do it all alone."

"Ryan," Sandy pressed. "We're going around in circles. We'll call Theresa tomorrow if she doesn't call you first."

"I can't leave him."

"Yes you can."

Sandy forced himself to assume a firm voice, letting Ryan know he meant business. He didn't often treat him like a child anymore, telling him what to do or where to go and how late to stay out. He left that to Kirsten, who still had a hard time realizing the boys were adults. But right now, Ryan needed someone to set him straight to make sure he did the right thing for both him and the little boy in the other room. Ryan needed to come home now.

He took Ryan by the arm. "If we have to, we'll come back tomorrow. And we'll keep coming back to set this straight. But right now, you're coming home." He ignored Ryan's sullen look, because Sandy could tell that he was ready to give in and leave. "Arturo, thank you for everything. Please let Theresa know that we're waiting for her call… and that we're not going away."

With that, Sandy led Ryan out of the house and into his car.


	3. 3

Thanks to Sister Rose for acting as Beta. But mistakes are still all mine.

I don't own the O.C. or any of its characters.

* * *

When Seth walked into the living room, Ryan was sitting on the couch, hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees. Kirsten was at his side, with a hand loosely draped over his shoulders. Sandy was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, his back to the door, leaning forward and talking in a hushed whisper to Ryan and Kirsten. The room was eerily quiet, even with the muted conversation.

He cleared his throat to make his and Summer's arrival known. Ryan looked up and Sandy slowly turned around.

"Is everything okay?" He squeezed Summer's hand. They would announce their news in a minute.

"Hey, Seth." Kirsten smiled. "Everything is great. Dad and I just need some time with Ryan… alone."

Seth studied his brother. He looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Did someone die?" Summer was tugging on his hand, urging him to leave, but he just couldn't go.

"No one died, Seth."

"Then why do you all look as if someone did?"

"Not now, Seth. We'll share later. Find something else to do while we talk to Ryan."

"Okay. I get it. I'm not wanted." He started to follow Seth out of the room.

"Don't be like that." Kirsten started to get up, but Sandy held her back.

"Mom, I was just kidding. Chill. Summer and I will find something to do and later on I'll grill Ryan."

He finally left the room, but Seth didn't go far. He put his hands on Summer's waist and steered her to the kitchen, where they sat at the table. He put his fingers to his lips.

"We can hear everything from here." A devilish smile played on his lips.

"I called my doctor Ryan," Kirsten said. "Now-a-days a paternity is a very simple procedure. They don't even need blood. All they need is a swab from inside of the cheek. It's not invasive. It won't hurt the little boy. It won't traumatize him."

Ryan nodded vehemently. "So let's do it. Let's get it done." He slid to the edge of his seat, ready to jump up. As if he were going to run down to Chino and grab the little boy to perform the test.

"You've got to stay level headed, Ryan."

"You keep saying that. But I want to know what we're going to do. You saw it. You saw that this is my kid."

"I saw it, Ryan. But we need proof beyond a shadow of a doubt. That's why we'll do a paternity test. Theresa may agree to one on her own. If not, we'll get a court order. Kirsten and I are here for you. But keep your cool. That's all we ask."

"We'll do what's best."

Ryan tilted his head sideways and looked at Kirsten. "You're pretty calm about this." Ryan pointed his chin at Sandy. "He nearly killed us when I told him." Suddenly, he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_"I did not tell her to have an abortion. I just reminded her that she has options." Kirsten slammed a dish into the sink._

_Ryan winced as he listened from the other room. Sandy and Kirsten had been fighting non-stop since Theresa had announced she intended to keep her baby. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it had something to do with the lunch Theresa and Kirsten shared earlier in the week._

_"I didn't want her to make a decision she might regret."_

_"So it's better if two teenagers try and raise this kid."_

_"Damn it Sandy, don't put this on me. We've been over this. They have options. They can explore adoption. Abortion is not the only way to solve this problem."_

_She threw down the towel and stalked out of the room._

"Theresa confided in you. If it weren't for you, she probably would have gone through with the abortion. Maybe she told you about how she planned to lie to me." Ryan jumped up, as he started to build up the scenario in his head. He paced the living room back and forth. "Maybe it was your idea. Seth wasn't going to come home without me and if there was no baby then I'd come back to Newport."

He swung around, throwing an accusing glare at Kirsten. "Sandy had no luck with Seth, so you called Theresa, concocted a story about losing the baby —"

"Enough, Ryan. That's enough. Don't talk to Kirsten like that. She doesn't deserve that."

He stopped pacing, aware that he pushed things too far, yet waiting for Kirsten to deny it. His heart was pounding, racing as if he had just jogged an eight-minute mile.

Kirsten's face was white. Her bottom lip quivered. She didn't know where the attack had come from. What had she ever done to deserve that reaction from Ryan? But she could tell he was waiting for her to refute his accusations.

In the kitchen Seth and Summer were staring at each other with wide eyes. "Theresa? Baby?" she mouthed.

Seth shrugged. He turned his face back to the living room, eager to hear more details. He definitely would not be able to share his news with his parents. As it was, they'd be ticked off that he hadn't discussed it with them first, but now it would be like pouring salt on an open wound.

He stood up, and edged closer to the door, hoping to hear better. Summer was right behind him. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Seth took her hand in his, glad to have her behind him. His dad was glaring at Ryan. It was a look that Seth was familiar with. It usually meant someone was in trouble. But they weren't teenagers anymore. And it wasn't like Sandy and Kirsten grounded them any longer, or docked their allowance, or took away their car privileges. But Seth knew that knowing he had disappointed or hurt his parents was the worst punishment ever.

Sandy was quickly losing patience. "Apologize now." His nostrils flared. Ryan wrapped his arms around his midsection. His stomach was rebelling and he could feel the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. Yet he felt mutinous at the same time. He stuck out his lower lip, staring at Kirsten, waiting for her to say something. They were at a standoff.

"Ryan, apologize," Sandy demanded again. His eyes flashed.

Ryan wanted to say the words, do what his foster father wanted him to do, but they were stuck in his throat. Kirsten was just sitting there, her eyes wide with shock. Tears threatened to spill.

Finally, she stammered. "I – I would never hurt you like that. I know how much that baby meant to you."

"That's the thing." His voice was so quiet, Sandy and Kirsten had to slide forward to hear him. "I never wanted the baby. I was just trying to do the right thing." He turned. "I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't do … those things I said." He threw up his hands, said "I'm sorry" one last time and bolted from the room.

Ryan hadn't lived in the pool house for years. As soon as the contractors had finished the renovations, the fall after he had returned from Chino, Sandy and Kirsten had insisted he take a room in the big house. But every so often when he needed some alone time, he would wander out to the pool house to think. It usually took a while for anyone to find him, but this time Sandy followed him.

"I know this is hard for you."

Ryan shrugged.

"Kirsten and I, we want to help you anyway we can. But we've got to stick together. What happened in there cannot happen again. You cannot turn on your family."

"What do you want from me? I apologized!"

Sandy arched his bushy brows. "Did you really believe those things you said? Where did those accusations come from?"

Ryan mutely stared out the window, watching the white foamy waves roll and wash onto the shore. He tried to block out his thoughts and even Sandy's words. He just wanted to rewind the day and start again. He'd do things differently, change the course of events. Though, judging from how things unfolded, he'd have to go back four years, to that day in March when he and Theresa had slept together.

"Did you believe those things you said?" Sandy tried to hide the frustration in his voice.

"I don't know what I was thinking. It sounded right when it was coming out, but I know Kirsten wouldn't do that."

"It's a start."

Ryan slowly turned and leaned against the cool glass. Sometimes, he hated coming home, because Sandy and Kirsten always had the ability to make him feel like he was sixteen again. And he was long past the desire to be someone's little boy.

"It was stupid and I'm sorry. Can we just move on?"

"We can try, but you'll have to make things right with Kirsten."

Ryan nodded. He was about to add something when Kirsten walked into the room.

"I'm sorry to interrupt."

She looked down at the floor, not meeting Ryan's eyes, playing with the phone in her hands. Her back was straight and rigid. She had a false smiled plastered to her face. It was how she looked when he had first arrived at their house. His stomach lurched as he realized the damage his words had done.

"Theresa is on the phone."

"Oh." He swallowed. "I'll take it in here."

He took a long step over to the pool house extension. With one hand on the phone, he shot a meaningful look at his foster parents.

"Okay. Yeah. We'll give you a minute," said Sandy. "Come inside when you're done."

He nodded, and watched their receding figures, took a deep breathe. "Hello," he said, lifting the receiver.

"Ryan. It's Theresa." The sound of her voice catapulted him four years back. Her voice was clear and crisp, familiar like and old pair of sweatpants. "I'm sorry," she said.

"I don't get it. Why did you lie?"

"Because you were so unhappy and I know you wouldn't go back home unless there wasn't a baby to take care of. I meant well."

"Meanwhile, my son has been without a father for the first three years of his life. How is that right?"

"We don't know for sure that he's yours son."

Ryan laughed. It came out hollow, scaring Theresa on the other end. "Did you take a good look at him? Aside from the coloring, he looks just like me."

"There's much more of a chance that Eddie's the father. We were always careful. When are you not careful?"

"Eddie wasn't?"

She sighed.

"He always used protection, didn't he? So let's just have a paternity test. We can go to a lab." Ryan grasped the edge of his shirt, and pulled on a loose thread. He stopped pulling, when he thought he might rip the shirt from tugging too hard. "All we need is a swab from inside J.T.'s mouth. It shouldn't hurt. We can talk when we have the test results."

Ryan could hear Theresa breathing on the other end, but she didn't answer right away. He waited, tapping the glass of the pool house door.

"What do you expect if he's your son?"

"I expect to be a father to my boy. I practically grew up without my dad. It was no fun. If the Cohens…" His voice trailed off. "I can be a good dad."

He would never have said that before the night he stole the car with Trey, but living with the Cohens had changed all that. He had Sandy and Kirsten and he had been the recipient of their good parenting countless of times. From the time he had broken into the file room at Harbor to the times he and Seth had broken curfew. But even more than there gentle discipline was their unconditional love, their time and expertise. He could remember sitting in the kitchen and Sandy helping him find a way to fit in at Harbor or Kirsten giving him advice on how to make Lindsay's birthday special when they had first started dating. He could be a good father.

"It's not as easy as it looks."

"It doesn't change what I have to do. Look," he said getting annoyed, "do you agree to the paternity test?"

"I can't afford it, Ryan. It's not that—"

"I'll pay for it. I'll ask the Cohens to pay for it if I don't have enough. This is important to me, Theresa. At the very least you owe me this."

"Okay. We'll do it. Make the arrangements and call me."

He said good-bye and hung up the phone. Ryan knew that Sandy and Kirsten were waiting for him in the kitchen, but he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. He sank down onto the edge of the bed, where he first slept when he had moved in with the Cohens and buried his face in his hands. When he looked up again, he noticed Seth standing out by the pool, shoulders hunched, hands deep in his pockets. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting for Ryan to give the nod of approval to come in.

Someone must be dying, thought Ryan. Otherwise, why would Seth wait to be invited in? Seth never waited for permission to gain entrance anywhere. He waved his hand, indicating to Seth that it was safe to enter.

"What do you know?" Ryan asked.

"Theresa. Baby. Lie."

Ryan shook his head ruefully. "You got the bare bones." He pointed to the chair. "You better sit. You'll end up on your ass anyway." Seth sat. "So back in '04, when I came to get you in Portland, Theresa called and told me she lost the baby."

"Right. I remember."

"So this morning when I'm with Trey, he's telling me about hanging out with Arturo and his three-year-old nephew." He paused, watching for Seth's reaction. "Do the math."

"So this is your kid."

"He looks like me. Even Sandy saw it. But we're going to do a paternity test to be sure."

"And then what?"

"I don't know. But no kid of mine is growing up not knowing who his father is."

"What about school? You're on the fast track to being an architect. You practically have a job signed, sealed and delivered at the Newport Group."

"I can do all that and help raise my son." But Ryan didn't sound convinced.

"Cool."

Ryan sighed. "I've got to talk to your parents. That is if Kirsten will even look at me." He ran a hand through his hair. "I really screwed up, Seth."

"She'll get over it. It's part of the job description that goes with being a mom. 'Kid says half-assed remarks, get over it quickly.'"

Ryan grinned, shaking his head.

"It probably goes with being a dad, so if you really think this kid is yours, you better get used to it."

Now Ryan was laughing.

Seth slapped his brother on the back. "Looks like a parent are approaching and we won't get to do what I do best, turn the conversation back to me. Keep me posted?"

"I will."

Seth slid past Sandy.

"I thought you said you'd come in when you were finished talking to Theresa."

"I needed a minute and then Seth came in."

"Come on, Kirsten is waiting in the kitchen."

He followed Sandy back into the house and slid into a chair by the counter. Kirsten pushed an empty glass and a container of orange juice towards him. She still wouldn't look him in the eye. He rubbed his eyes, wishing the churning feeling in his stomach would go away.

He'd sat at this counter so many times; doing his homework, reading the morning newspaper while shoveling overflowing spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth. Kirsten had stood across from him countless of times, just like this one, but without the haunted look in her eyes that questioned if she knew her son. She would lean against the counter, cradling a mug of coffee or hot tea asking about his day, or what his plans were for the weekend. Now she was awkward and unsure of their relationship. And Ryan hated himself for what he had said and done.

"I'm sorry, Kirsten."

"I know you are."

"You didn't deserve that. And… and… I didn't believe what I said. I don't even know where it came from."

"Ryan, it's fine," she snapped.

"Then why do you keep looking at me like you did that first weekend Sandy brought me home?" He was whispering, but his soft words brought her head up sharply. "Like you don't know who I am."

Kirsten twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "Tonight I didn't know who you were. But… but I'll get passed it. It's part of my job description as a mom. Kids say half-assed things all the time. I've just got to grin and bear it."

Ryan groaned. "You sound like Seth."

She grinned. "Well, Seth showed me my job description on his way upstairs."

Sandy slapped Ryan on the back and put his other hand on Kirsten's shoulder. "Do you think we can hear what Theresa had to say? I'm ready to explode."

Ryan couldn't believe it, but for the second time that evening, he was laughing. How could he laugh in the face of such an awful day? He filled his lungs, slowly let the air out, and filled them in on what they had missed.

"I don't know what the cost is of a test like this, but I have about a thousand dollars in my savings account. It's not much…"

"We'll pay for the test Ryan. Let's just settle this."

"Thanks." He hated taking more money from the Cohens. But this was too important, and he knew he would have to swallow his pride on this one. "I… I better call Trey. I sort of just dropped him. I should start explaining things to him." It was a conversation he was not looking forward too, and Ryan suddenly wished he had never resumed his relationship with his brother.


	4. 4

Sorry it's taken so long for me to update... I don't own the O.C. just my car and it's definitely not a Range Rover. 

Thanks to Sister Rose for being the most wonderful Beta. I tinkered afterwards so all mistakes are mine

* * *

Ryan stuck his thumb in his mouth and chewed the nail down to the skin. His hands looked atrocious. Even Kirsten had commented on it the other day. She had offered him a box of Band-Aids to stop the habit, but he needed to chew on something or else he'd be back to smoking cigarettes. And at his stress level, he'd be smoking a pack a day. He mentioned that to Kirsten, who agreed that his nails should fall victim to his stress rather than his lungs.

He continued gnawing at the nail until he chewed down all the way to his skin, as he sat in the waiting room of the clinic. Theresa had called to say she would be a few minutes late, because traffic had been heavier than she had anticipated. As soon as she came they'd get the results from the DNA test that they had taken the week before and they'd know for certain if J.T. was an Atwood or not. Kirsten grabbed Ryan's hand, yanking it from his mouth and held it firmly in hers.

Ryan looked at Kirsten out of the corners of his eyes. He found it hard to believe that in only a week and a half, Kirsten could act as if nothing had happened. For the first couple of days after his outburst, she definitely walked around him as if on tiptoes. But soon, she was back to her old self, taking charge and organizing. She found a clinic that could do a DNA test and made sure they would expedite the results so he and Theresa wouldn't have to wait very long. She made no mention of the horrid way Ryan had treated her, and didn't stop mothering Ryan while he was home on winter break.

Finally, Theresa arrived. An oversized pocket book was slung over her shoulder, strands of her long brown hair stood on ends, and J.T. trailed behind her.

"Sorry," she breathed. "I couldn't find a babysitter."

Kirsten smiled. "Hi, Theresa. It's good to see you."

Theresa smiled shyly, embarrassed that she hadn't even taken the time to say hello to Ryan's parents. She hadn't forgotten how kind the Cohens had been. If it weren't for Kirsten, she wouldn't have J.T.

Ryan knelt down so he could look J.T. in his eyes. "Hey. Remember me? We met last week."

J.T. grabbed onto the folds of Theresa's long billowy skirt and hid behind it. But he nodded at Ryan.

"Ryan, they're waiting for us," Sandy gently reminded him.

"Yeah." Ryan stood up. "We should go inside."

"How about I wait out here?" Kirsten suggested. "With J.T.? He doesn't need to be bored with all this grown up stuff." She opened her purse and dug around inside. "Is it okay if I give J.T. a candy, Theresa?"

The little boy's eyes widened and he looked hopefully at his mother. She nodded slightly and the boy, grinning widely, took the candy that Kirsten held out. His stubby little fingers ripped off the wrapper and he popped the sweet into his mouth.

"J.T.," Theresa said, "You stay here with Mrs. Cohen. Mommy will be back in a minute. Okay?"

J.T. sucked on his candy, but his head bobbed up and down. Kirsten immediately saw what Ryan meant. She hadn't known Ryan at the age of four. But he didn't look like Ryan at age four. He looked like Ryan now. If Ryan sat out in the sun a little more and colored his hair, the two of them could practically be twins.

The office wasn't exactly conducive to entertaining little boys, and Kirsten hadn't thought she'd be on babysitting duty. So she rummaged through the piles of magazines until she found a National Geographic. National Geographic always had pictures that would interest a little boy. She rushed past the pictures of the naked tribeswomen in Africa and found a page with pictures of dolphins and whales.

Distractedly, Kirsten kept one eye on the office door, where Ryan, Theresa and Sandy had disappeared, and the other eye on the little boy who could be her grandson. He squealed with delight with the picture of the dolphin jumping in the air, fish in its mouth.

"Would you like to touch a dolphin, J.T.? Maybe we can go down to Seaworld one day and touch a dolphin."

"You can do that?"

She nodded.

"How do they feel?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I never touched one myself. But I imagine it would be lots of fun." She knew she shouldn't be making promises that she might not keep. Chances were Theresa couldn't afford a trip down to Seaworld and if the tests determined Ryan wasn't the father she and Sandy wouldn't be part of the little boy's life. But every time she looked at J.T. she was more convinced that this was Ryan's son.

Sandy emerged from the office first. He caught Kirsten's eye and gave a slight nod of the head. Kirsten knew she had to take control of the situation. Ryan looked like he could barely stand. Theresa appeared slightly bent, as if someone had punched her in the gut, and the wind was knocked out of her. Looking at the two, barely out of their teens, Kirsten was reminded of how young they really were.

"Why don't we go grab something to eat," she suggested.

"J.T. and I had lunch."

"We can stop and get a coffee and donuts," insisted Kirsten. "We can talk."

"I – J.T. needs his nap. And I have to be at work later tonight. I don't want to get caught in traffic."

"Theresa, we have to talk about this. You can't just leave like this."

"I need to think, Ryan."

"You had four years to think," Ryan's voice was brusque. "We tell him today." Sandy placed a restraining arm on Ryan, while Kirsten offered a reassuring hand to the frightened little boy besides her who didn't understand what the grownups were discussing, though he recognized the anger and confusion in their voices. Theresa sighed heavily. Ryan's eyes were determined. She knew he wouldn't relent and it was easier to just do what he wanted. She glanced at her little boy, who was leaning against Kirsten, his hand firmly in hers. It was so easy for little kids to trust new people. He would be all right with the truth, she decided.

"J.T.," Theresa said, kneeling down to his eye level. "Remember when you asked me if you had a daddy?"

J.T. nodded solemnly.

"And remember how last week we came here and the doctor made you you're your mouth and he put that big Q-Tip in it? You see, mommy didn't tell you the whole truth about who your daddy is. I — I wasn't sure where your daddy was, so I made up a story. But today, the doctor told us that Ryan here, he's your daddy."

The little boy swallowed and looked up at Sandy. "Are you Ryan?"

Sandy shook his head. "No." He prodded Ryan forward. "This is Ryan."

Ryan's eyes darted around the room as he sat down on the edge of one of the waiting room chairs. It was a nice office, with a plush carpet, and cushioned chairs to sit in. The end tables were littered with old magazines for patients to peruse. Yet he thought what a crappy place to do this. Leave it to Theresa to just dive into something head first without thinking it through.

"You're my daddy?" J.T. looked at Ryan.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry I missed so many of your birthdays."

J.T.'s beamed. "I just had my birthday." He held up four fingers. "I turned four. Mommy bought me a tricycle this year. But she said it was a very big present, so it also had to count as one of my Christmas presents too."

"A tricycle, huh? Where do you ride it?"

"Oh, I'm only allowed to ride it up and down the street and that's only if Mommy or Uncle Arturo is watching me."

"Well, that sounds like a good thing. Someone should always be there to make sure you don't get hurt."

"It's a tricycle silly. I can't get hurt. It balances all by itself."

The adults all chuckled.

"Hey, J.T., how'd you like to come visit me one time? Maybe you can have a sleep over in my house." He rolled his eyeballs upward, trying to catch a glimpse of Theresa's face. Her lips were pursed and her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Maybe he should have asked her first before springing the idea onto J.T., but he'd be damned if he'd ask permission to take his kid anywhere. He had a right to be part of J.T.'s life.

"Can I?" The little boy turned to his mother. "Pretty please, Mommy."

"We'll see mi hijo. Not today. Today, we're going to go get a treat before we go home."

"Yes, we should get going. We shouldn't waste such a lovely afternoon in the clinic's waiting room." Kirsten gathered her jacket, and handed Ryan his. She watched, pleased, as the little boy slipped his hand into Ryan's.

"Who's that lady?"

"My mom," answered Ryan.

Kirsten still felt a flush of joy every time she heard the words out of Ryan's mouth.

"And that's your daddy?" J.T. pointed at Sandy.

Ryan nodded. He caught Sandy's gaze and explained, "They're your Grandma and Grandpa." He could feel his heart beating in his throat. It was one thing to call Sandy and Kirsten his parents, but he was unsure about pinning the role of grandparents to them, especially when they were so young.

"So they're my abuelita and abuelito?"

"I know that this is probably very confusing, J.T." Kirsten reached over and stroked the little boy's cheek.

He shook his head. "No it's not." He pointed to Sandy. "You're my Abuelito." To Kirsten. "You're my Abuelita." Then to Ryan. "You're my Daddy." He slipped his free hand into Theresa's. "And you're my Mommy. Now I have a family just like on T.V. and in the books Mommy reads to me." He looked up at Kirsten his brown eyes round as saucers. "It's not confusing at all."

He tugged at Theresa's and Ryan's hands and walked forward. Ryan stumbled, but quickly regained his step. He wished he was four-years-old and could process all of this so easily.

When Ryan returned to the house, he slunk into the den and sank into the soft leather couch. He felt around aimlessly for the remote and switched on the television, blankly staring at the program that came on. He wasn't even sure what he was watching. He raked his fingers through his hair and leaned forward, putting his head through his knees. When he thought about it all, he felt nauseous.

The scent of carpet cleaner assailed his nose and he brought his head back up. He closed his eyes, trying to figure out what he would do next. Sandy had mentioned custodial arrangements, but was he even capable of taking care of a four-year-old boy? What did he even know about child care?

"So, how'd it go?" The sound of Seth's voice made Ryan jump. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I thought someone might call with the news," Seth shook his phone in the air, "But it must have been hectic."

Ryan nodded. "Sorry. Yeah. It was all just too surreal."

"So, he's your son."

Ryan nodded.

"You seemed pretty sure. I always know to trust your instincts. But you still seem shocked."

"Well, there's not turning back now. I'm a twenty-year-old dad." Ryan fell back on the couch the leather cool against his skin. "He's like this perfect little kid." Ryan filled his brother in on the details of the afternoon.

"You'll be fine, Ryan. You're the most put together person your age I know."

"Thanks."

"And my offer from four-years-ago stands. You can call on me to babysit anytime you need some help or down time."

Ryan grinned. "Thanks, man."

"We're brothers." He patted Ryan's shoulder. "I'm this kid's uncle. When do I get to meet him? He's still young. It's not too late to educate him on the wonders of comics and video games."

Ryan felt some of the tension released by Seth's easy banter. The knots loosened from his shoulders and his neck didn't feel so tight.

"J.T. doesn't know me. I've lost some important years."

Seth leaned back into the couch and took the remote from Ryan. He flipped the channel to MTV and the room filled with music.

"How much do you remember from before you were four?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me."

"Not much."

"I don't either have too many memories from before I was four. A couple maybe. But they're all hazy and unclear. Now I remember lots from when I was four. My mom would pick me up from school." Seth closed his eyes. "She would always have paint smeared on her face and she'd smell of turpentine. Dad would come home from work or school. Not sure what he was up to those days. And he'd cook dinner for us. They were simple dinners. Mac and Cheese. Burgers and fries. We weren't exactly living in the same style up in Berkley." Seth opened his eyes. "Anyway, there's a point to my rambling. It's not too late with J.T. You have your opportunity now. Just make sure you're there for him."

"Easier said than done. I'm going to be a part-time dad." Ryan waved his hand around. "I'm not going to be able to give him all this. I'm not going to be able to be a dad like Sandy. He was always with you and your mom. It's part of what makes him such a good dad."

"Others have done it. You're not going to be the first part-time dad."

"Seth, I barely have my own life together."

"You're only twenty! You haven't even finished college. Give yourself a chance."

"I work part-time for barely above minimum wage. I can't make child support payments. I'm such a loser." For the umpteenth time that day, Ryan buried his head in his hands.

"Hey, that's not true. Your crappy job won't last for long. You'll graduate in a year in a half. You'll have your degree in architecture. Mom's firm will hire you. I'm the screw-up. Not you Ryan."

"I dropped out of the architectural program at the end of the semester."

Seth's breath whistled as he inhaled sharply. "What? You wanted to become an architect for like forever. Why would you drop out?"

"Because I hated it. Now I need to declare a new major. It might delay graduation." Ryan sighed and rubbed his face with his large callused hands. "I'll e-mail my advisor and see if I can get back into the program. I have to do what's right for my son."

Ryan stood, his shoulders sagging. Seth looked on sadly as Ryan walked out of the room. He hadn't realized how much Ryan had hated the program. He had witnessed a couple of frustrated nights, when Ryan had sat over his drafting table in their very crowded dorm room and crumpled up sketch after sketch. But he had assumed that the project wasn't working for him, much like the writer's block that Seth often experienced. He hadn't realized that Ryan hated what he was doing, that he was frustrated with the program, not the particular project.

He knew Ryan well. He had been put on the fast track for to becoming an architect since the fall he had returned from Chino; after Theresa had supposedly lost the baby. When they had graduated from high school his parents had asked him what major he was considering. They hadn't asked Ryan. Everyone knew Ryan was going to be an architect. As Seth finished each semester his parents pushed him to figure out what direction he was going to take. Everyone knew Ryan was going to be an architect.

It must have taken Ryan a lot of courage to drop out of the program. If the news of J.T. hadn't surfaced, Seth was certain his brother would have broken the news to their parents. He wasn't sure how Sandy and Kirsten would take the news. Kirsten would be disappointed. She was looking forward to working side by side with Ryan. Sandy would probably be supportive. But now Ryan was going to go ahead and continue in a profession that was making him miserable just because he needed to provide for a child. Seth knew that was wrong.

The scent of garlic and onions wafted through the house and into the den. His parents must have ordered take out. He hoped it was Chinese and there were dumplings. He wiped his sweaty palms on the top of his slacks. He needed to tell his parents about Ryan. They needed to convince Ryan that continuing on a course of study that made him miserable was a bad idea for himself and for J.T. And he had to tell his parents his news about Summer. He wiped his hands one more time and slipped the ring off of his finger and into his pocket.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, I have not updated this story in months... I'm not sure if anyone even remembers what this story is about or if you're even interested. So humor me. I'm not giving anything up, I have a few chapters written and have just been waiting on the Beta. Speaking of, thanks to **Sister Rose** for looking this over and giving me input, even if I didn't take all the advice. My fault, not hers.

ETA: Thanks to **connell **for her legal expertise that I'll be using starting in this chapter and in the next chapter. I bet she doesn't even remember giving me the information, because I've been sitting on this for like six months!

And I while I know Ben was looking at me the other day and he was blowing **me** kisses and no one else, I harbor no delusions to owning the OC or any of its characters.

* * *

Seth went into the kitchen where his parents were busy preparing dinner. His mother was dangerously near the stove, a sight he couldn't get used to, even though Sandy insisted she prepared edible, even delicious meals, every so often.

"Oh. I thought Ryan was headed in here." He turned as if to leave.

"He just went to get something from the pool house." Kirsten smiled at her son. "Want to set?"

"You know, manual labor hasn't been my thing since high school and I worked at the Bait Shop." His mother handed him a stack of plates. "I knew there was a reason I didn't miss coming home." Kirsten glowered. "I'm kidding. I'm kidding." He ducked as a dishtowel headed his way and then bent over and picked it up from the floor. Setting it on the counter, he said, "But since we have a minute, I thought I should tattle." He set the dishes on the counter.

Sandy stopped and turned from the stove. Seth's voice had grown serious and it wasn't like his oldest son to go from jovial to serious in less than a minute. "About what?"

Seth swallowed. He knew Ryan had confided in him and by telling their parents he'd be breaking his trust. He also knew that it was the right thing to do. He ignored his dry mouth and the golf ball that seemed to be lodged in the back of his throat and started talking.

"Well, Ryan and I were just having a heart to heart. Apparently, he dropped out of the architectural program." Seth watched for his parents' reactions. They were surprisingly quiet, as if they were trying to chew and digest this latest piece of information. "Apparently, he's hated it. And I don't think it would be such a big deal, except that now he's going to try and get back in so he doesn't delay graduation." He saw his parents' confused look. "Because he has to support J.T."

Sandy scratched his chin, which was starting to sport a five o'clock shadow. "Was he really that miserable?"

Seth shrugged. "This was the first I heard of it. But if I stop to think, he's been really frustrated with the work lately. I just assumed it was getting harder. But maybe it was getting harder because he wasn't enjoying it anymore."

He grabbed a stack of dishes and walked to the table. He felt a slight rumbling in his stomach as the scent of cumin, onions and garlic filled the kitchen. He wondered what his mother was preparing.

"Anyway," Seth continued. "It's a conversation you need to be having with Ryan. But I know him. He won't tell you himself."

Sandy was about to say something, but Ryan walked in and everyone grew quiet.

"What?" His eyes darted around the room, landing on each person briefly until they settled on Seth. "What's going on?"

Seth whistled; the picture of innocence. "Nothing. We were discussing Mom's cooking lessons."

Ryan tilted his head to the side and raised his brows. "Well, they're obviously working. Because dinner smells safe to eat."

"You boys have no faith in me!"

"Years of experience, Kirsten." Ryan yanked open a drawer, and took out cutlery for four. His head was down, but he peered out over the top of his lashes, trying to figure out what he missed. He knew there was something the Cohens weren't telling him. Holding up the cutlery, "Forks on the left? Knives on the right?" The corners of his mouth turned up into a slight grin.

Kirsten returned the smile. "Yes." She clapped her hands together. "Get to it. Set the table. I'm hungry and dinner is ready."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting around the dining room table, in the soft upholstered chairs. Sandy and Kirsten sat perched on the edge of their seats, across from the boys, their usual place when there was no company. Only the sound of knives and forks scraping against china was heard.

Finally, Sandy put down his knife and fork and looked straight at Ryan. "Seth tells us that you dropped out of the architectural program. Is that true?"

Ryan's cutlery fell to his plate, clattering loudly against the ceramic dishes. His eyes rolled to the side to glare at Seth, and his nostrils flared. He couldn't believe Seth had betrayed his confidence. He clenched and unclenched his fist, and set his jaw rigid, grinding his back teeth together.

Finally, Ryan curtly said, "Don't worry, I'll get back in. I already put a call in to my advisor."

"Actually, Ryan, I think that's what concerns us more." Kirsten reached out to put her hand on his, but Ryan yanked it back. He didn't miss the hurt expression on her face. Lately, that's all Ryan was good at; hurting Kirsten.

Seeing his wife's pained expression, Sandy took Kirsten's hand in his and put it under the table, where he squeezed it reassuringly. "Were you that unhappy?" He turned to Ryan with searching eyes.

"It was stupid, Sandy. Impulsive. I wasn't really thinking." Ryan kept his eyes down, refusing to meet anyone's gaze. He gripped the edge of the table; his fingers went from red to white. He didn't want to have this conversation. It had weighed in his decision to try and get back into the program. Sandy and Kirsten were always eager to talk and to share their feelings and he was content to keep things inside.

"I don't believe you." Sandy crossed his legs. "You don't do impulsive. Not with things like this."

"I'm not going to talk about it."

"If the program really makes you unhappy, you shouldn't continue." Kirsten's voice faltered. Everyone knew how much she had been looking forward to one of her children joining the family business. "You can find another architectural program. Or if it's the work, then you're better off choosing something that makes you happy."

"I no longer have the luxury of staying in school for five years. Choosing another major at this point will set me back at least a year if not more. I have to find a way to get my degree so I can get out of there. I have a son to think of now."

Seth's stomach dropped as he listened to the exchange. He had stopped eating as soon as his father had asked Ryan about dropping out of the program, and now he was just sinking in his chair hoping to stay unnoticed.

"Yes you have a son to think of," Kirsten said reasonably. "And as a parent there are things that I _have_ sacrificed for my children. But sacrificing your happiness for your child will only cause more unhappiness and discord in your home."

Sandy jumped in. "My father came home every day, miserable with his job. But he went back each day, saying he had to do it to put food on the table." He pushed his chair closer to the table and leaned forward, hoping Ryan would hang on his every word. He was having a difficult time reading his foster son. "So each night, he came home tired and bitter and he would take it out on my mother, me and my brothers and my sisters. Until one day he up and left his family."

Ryan opened his mouth as if to object, but Sandy didn't let him talk. He wanted Ryan to listen.

"No, you wouldn't leave behind your responsibilities, but if you can't find any satisfaction in your job; joy, or a challenge, then you can't be a complete person. Kirsten and I want you to love your life. That includes your job. It may not be the most important thing, but it's something you're going to have to face day in and day out."

"Sandy and I will help you anyway we can. And if that means helping you support your son until you're on your feet, then we can do that."

Ryan shook his head. He pushed his chair back and stood up, stumbling on the edge of the leg, but quickly righting himself. "It never ends. First college. Now my child. I can't keep asking you for money. It's not right. It'll be tough, but Theresa, J.T. and I will get by. Theresa has been doing it until now and I'll figure out a way to help out until I graduate." He started to leave.

"Ryan!" Sandy barked. He stood halfway, holding his napkin in his lap. "We're not done. Get back in here."

Ryan hesitated in the doorway, but came back to the table. He stood behind his chair, and didn't sit down. He caught Sandy and Kirsten exchanging looks and knew that with just that one look they were a united front, already on the same page for whatever was to come.

"Sit," Kirsten ordered. "This may take a while."

Seth picked up his plate. "I think this is my cue to exit. I'm going to finish this in the other room." He slunk out the door, throwing a look over his shoulder, hoping to see a hint of forgiveness in Ryan's eyes, but he couldn't see it.

"Sit," Kirsten repeated. "We obviously need to have a long talk." She waved her hand at the chair. "I'm not sure what happened, but it seems like since you found out about J.T. that you've started to doubt your place in this family again."

Ryan shook his head vehemently. "That's not true."

"Then why would you think you would have to finish a course of study that doesn't make you happy? Why couldn't you come to us about this? Why did we have to hear about this from Seth? Why is it that anytime we offer financial help you treat it as if the money we're offering has leprosy?"

"Because you've done so much."

"Didn't we have a similar conversation two years ago? When we had to force you to apply for college?" Kirsten put the flat of her hands on the edge of the table, and leaned forward, earnestly looking at Ryan. She wanted to compel him to look her in the eye. "You will finish college and you will take all the time you need."

"I know you mean well, but you can't keep telling me what to do like I'm a kid." He looked at Sandy. "I'm going to have to make child support payments, help Theresa out. I need spending money. But it's _my_ mess. You can't keep bailing me out of my problems."

Kirsten sighed. Frustrated. It was so much easier with Seth. Seth let them help. "We're here to help you out. We're not bailing you out. If Sandy or I thought you weren't stepping up to your responsibilities, we'd be right here in your face telling you that you needed to take care of your son. And I – we don't believe you can financially support your son without a decent job. You need a college degree for that."

"I'm not dropping out of college! We're just going around in circles. Do we have to do this now?"

"Yes."

Ryan sighed.

"Can you explain why you decided to drop out of the program in the first place?" Kirsten tried to soften her voice, to restore calm to the room. "One of the first things you confided in me when we first met was your interest in architecture. You planned your last two years at Harbor to prepare yourself for the rigors of the program. What changed your mind?"

He placed his elbows on the table, nearly toppling the chicken Kirsten had prepared and buried his head in his hands. "I don't know."

Seth couldn't wait to go back to school even though they still had two weeks left of vacation. But ever since Ryan had found out that Theresa had never lost the baby the entire household was on edge. It was like a tinderbox and he knew his little secret was the match that would ignite it all. Summer was bugging him to let everyone know, and he was hoping to go back to school without telling anyone, but she had put her foot down and had threatened no sex if he didn't tell his parents the truth. She was anxious to tell her own father and they had agreed it was best to tell both their parents simultaneously.

He wished Ryan was talking to him. He wished he could confide in his brother and make things all right. But Ryan was still giving him the cold shoulder because he had told Sandy and Kirsten about dropping out of the architectural program and going back in. Seth had eavesdropped on many heated conversation between his parents and Ryan, but they still hadn't reached a consensus. Ryan felt it was best to go back to it, and his advisor had graciously accepted him back in the program. Sandy and Kirsten just hoped Ryan was doing it because it was what he wanted to do, not because it was something he felt he had to do.

It was mid-afternoon and Ryan was slumped on the couch in the family room. He was turning over a game console in his hands, but there was no game on screen. Seth hesitated before entering the room, knowing he was about to be ignored, but he had to try and make things right between them. Soon enough they'd be going back to school and sharing a small cramped dorm room. He had to make it better.

"Hey Ryan, what's up?"

Ryan lifted his eyes to Seth, without turning his head, but didn't say anything.

Seth sighed. "So I guess I still get the silent treatment. I don't blame you, but I really thought I was doing the right thing. I still do." He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe not. Sometimes, the right thing seems so black and white at the moment and the shades of gray only emerge once I open my big mouth." He sat down next to Ryan, careful to leave space between them. "So have you cleared up any of the legalities with Theresa?"

Seth was surprised that Ryan answered. "Sandy's working on getting my name on the birth certificate. Theresa left the dad's name blank, so it should be easy enough. We're already talking custody and child support. She hired a lawyer."

Seth whistled. "Wow. That's intense. Is Theresa letting you see J.T. in the meanwhile?"

"Yeah." Ryan's head bobbed up and down. He tried to bury a smile, but Seth could see the pleasure written across his face. "She's bringing him over tomorrow for dinner. Kirsten invited her. You can bring Summer if you want."

At the mention of Summer, Seth's face fell. Ryan noticed right away.

"What?" He asked.

Seth pulled his hand from his pocket and held it up for Ryan to see. He didn't miss the slim platinum band circling Seth's ring finger… on his left hand.

"Holy crap."

Ryan decided it was his turn to tattle and to put Seth in the middle of it. Revenge was sweet. It was hard giving Seth the cold shoulder for more than a day or two. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed his brother's incessant babble, joking and the general camaraderie between them. Seth had a knack for taking his mind off his intense brooding. His little bombshell had done just that.

Dinner was practically back to normal. Sandy ran in at the last minute, hoisting his briefcase onto the counter and dashing to the table. The table was set and the food, emptied from take-out containers, was already in the middle. He could see the steam rising from the Hot and Sour soup and was relieved that he hadn't held up his family for too long.

"Sorry," he announced breathlessly. "I know I promised to keep reasonable hours while you guys were home on vacation, but something came up at the office last minute."

"Does it have to do with Theresa?" Ryan asked.

Sandy shook his head and reached for a bow of soup. "No. Another case. I'll let you know if anything does come up."

"Thanks."

Sandy reached out to tousle Ryan's hair. "No problem, kid."

"Ryan, what do you think I should serve for dinner tomorrow?"

"Mom, isn't it obvious?" Seth jumped in. "Something a kid likes. Burgers and fries."

"We can barbecue," Sandy offered.

"Sure." Ryan stared at Seth and then looked pointedly at his hand. The ring was missing. The corners of his lips curled up into a grin. He knew Seth would take off the ring in front of his parents, but he hadn't figured out a way to drop an obvious hint. But as he stared at Seth's hand it came to him. "Seth, you've been sitting out in the sun."

"I was playing tennis today."

Ryan reached out and pulled Seth's hand close to his. "What's that mark on your finger? It looks like a tan line. Since when do you wear a ring?"

Seth glared at his brother. Ryan grinned back.

"What's he talking about?" Kirsten peered over her plate, but she too noticed the very slight tan line. "Seth, you don't wear jewelry."

"Yeah, I started to wear a ring."

"But you shouldn't wear a band on that finger; it should be reserved for your wedding ring." His mother shook her head as if Seth had failed her in some terrible way.

Seth was about to kick Ryan under the table — hard — but the delight was painted on his face. It was obvious to Seth that this was payback. He sighed. He figured it killed two birds with one stone. He'd finally tell his parents and Ryan would have his payback.

"Don't worry mom, I would never put anything but a wedding ring on that finger."

"Then…" Realization slowly set in and Kirsten's face turned a deep shade of purple. "Seth Ezekiel, you better tell me you didn't."

"I did."

"What?" Sandy asked bewildered.

Ryan tried to hide his grin, but he was having too much fun. "Our Sethela got married."


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for all of you who are still hanging and reading this. 2 1/2 weeks until I'm back at work. I wonder if I'll finish it by then? Yeah. right! A big big thank you to **Sister Rose** for betaing - her thoughtful comments really improved this. Yet I tinkered and didn't send it back, but all mistakes are mine. The characters however, do not belong to me. With the exception of T.J. who is as precocious as my niece "S" and will probably be as whiny as my other niece "C," since at the moment they're the four-year-olds I know.

* * *

It was like a thunderstorm in the kitchen, the loud clap of thunder was Sandy and Kirsten's tirade, the lightening the flashes of anger coming from their eyes. Ryan took his plate of food and ducked out of the kitchen, though he didn't stray far. He wanted a front-row seat for the fireworks that was about to erupt in the Cohens' kitchen. He sat in the family room, balancing the plate on his lap and stabbing his sesame ginger chicken pieces with his fork. And he listened.

"What the hell do you mean you got married? You barely just turned 20." That was Sandy.

"How long have you been married and who did you marry?" Kirsten.

Ryan could picture Seth rolling his eyes. Who else would Seth marry? There had only been one woman in his life since high school.

"We got married the day after Christmas. We meant to tell you right away, but that was the day Ryan found out about J.T."

"And who is the lucky bride?" Kirsten asked again.

"I married Summer, Mom." Seth tried to quash the exasperation in his voice. His mother was deliberately playing dumb. Who else would he marry? He'd been dating Summer since he was 16.

"Summer? Summer eloped without a huge expensive party? I don't believe it."

"I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around this, Seth. Why didn't you tell us beforehand? Why was this such a big secret?"

He ran a hand through his curls — they felt like steel wool — and tried to choose the right words. "I wasn't planning on telling you like this. We were going to tell you together."

Kirsten stood up and slammed her chair hard against the floor. "I don't know what I'm angrier at. The fact that you went ahead and got married without telling your father and me or the fact that you did this before you finished college. Right now, it's taking every ounce of self-restraint not to smack you upside the head."

Seth sank into his chair, wishing he could disappear. It was as if a huge spotlight was shining on him. He felt hot and uncomfortable under the lights. He didn't know how much he should tell his parents.

Sandy put his hand over Kirsten's. "It's not that you want to get married or that you want to get married to Summer. Your mom and I both adore her. But I just don't understand why you were so secretive."

"Because Summer's pregnant," he blurted out. As soon as the words escaped his mouth, he closed his eyes and cowered from his parents' shocked glare.

"Pregnant?" Kirsten spluttered. She pulled the chair out and sank into the chair. "I see."

From the other room, Ryan jumped, the food splattering on his jeans, when he heard Seth. Apparently, Seth had not shared the entire story earlier in the day. He thought back to that day in May, his first year living with the Cohens, when Theresa had blurted out she was pregnant. They had been standing in the kitchen, and he had been trying to figure out a plausible excuse for going to the doctor that wouldn't worry Sandy and Kirsten.

They hadn't yelled at him or asked him why he hadn't used protection. They had simply sat him and Theresa down at the kitchen table to find out how they were feeling, what were they thinking and asked what they could do to help.

Thinking back, Ryan wondered if they would have reacted the same way after his Junior year at Harbor when he had become a definite member of their family, their son, not just the boy they had agreed could live in their pool house while he finished high school.

Ryan shook his head free of the memories and turned his attention back to the conversation in the kitchen.

"You're only 20, son."

"You were only a couple of years older when you had me."

"We were more settled."

"I know. I know. I didn't mean for this to happen. We were always careful. I swear."

"Always?" Sandy arched his bushy brows, hoping his voice didn't give his irritation away. He was keeping calm; suppressing the urge to shake Seth by the shoulders until his teeth rattled. They had drilled it into Seth from the beginning, protection first. How could he be so stupid? Especially after he saw how Ryan had nearly given everything up when Theresa had revealed she was pregnant.

"Well," Seth faltered, "Without going into details, too much information is not good for the parents' soul; there was a party and some drinking."

"We're going to pretend we didn't hear you admit to underage drinking at a college party," Kirsten declared firmly. She shook her head and spun around to face Sandy. "I'm not handling this."

Seth swallowed. His parents were staring at him as if he had dropped down from the sky during a meteor shower. It made him nervous and that made him sarcastic. "Hey, it's not like I was the first to make you grandparents."

"Don't bring Ryan into this," Sandy snapped. "That's water under the bridge. We're talking about you now. If you weren't responsible enough to use protection, especially after you saw firsthand the consequences, because of a drunken night, what on earth makes you think you're responsible enough to take care of a wife and child?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm responsible enough. They don't make you get a license to become a parent. It just happens. I love Summer. She loves me. We love this baby, even if we don't love the timing. This baby is a part of both of us. It's part of the both of you." He breathed deeply, grabbing the edge of the table to steady his shaking hand. "I'm sorry I shocked your system like this, but what's done is done." Seth got up from his chair. "Ryan suggested I bring J.T.'s aunt to dinner tomorrow night. Please show her the love and respect that you always do. She's my wife now, I love her, and that's not going to change."

He stormed out of the kitchen without a backwards glance. Sandy and Kirsten watched him go and didn't move until they heard the front door slam and the car startup in the driveway.

"Is it safe to come in?" Ryan poked his head into the kitchen.

"Were you eavesdropping?" Kirsten snapped angrily. "I swear, Sandy, next time we renovate this house I'm going to build a soundproof room so that we can actually have a private conversation."

Ryan blushed and started to retreat.

"I'm sorry, honey." Her voice softened. "I'm upset. I shouldn't take it out on you."

Ryan stopped and stared down at his big toe. "Yeah." He tugged at his collar. "I should apologize for the way I forced Seth to break the news to you. He probably could have done that in a much gentler manner."

Sandy slapped Ryan's shoulder. "If you hadn't said something, Seth would have probably gone back to school without telling us anything."

Sandy and Ryan gazed at Kirsten who was near the window. "Do you think Seth's all right? He was so upset when he left."

"He probably just went to Summer. Do you want me to check up on him?"

"Would you?"

He hated the look in Kirsten's eyes. The hope and insecurity. Ryan would do anything she asked. Anything. "No problem." He grabbed the keys to Kirsten's Rover off the key ring they kept by the entrance to the kitchen. He held up the keys, waiting for silent approval, though he knew it was implicit, and he went.

He didn't doubt that he'd find Seth at Summer's house, he just wasn't sure what he would say to him. He'd wanted his fun with Seth, but he realized he'd gone too far. And suddenly, Ryan saw that he and Seth shared something in common, when they hadn't really shared anything since the day they had met. That day they had both been lonely and unsure of their place in the world and they had each anchored the other. Now, each of them with impending fatherhood at a too early age, but Seth wasn't alone, not like Ryan: he had Summer.

Their car, Kirsten's old Land Rover that they now shared, was in the Roberts' driveway. He breathed a sigh of relief and sprinted up the drive to the front door. He expected Mrs. Roberts, Summer's stepmom, to answer the door, but instead it was a red-faced Neil Roberts.

"I was looking for Seth," Ryan said, after Mr. Roberts had yanked the door open, but said nothing. "Sandy and Kirsten were concerned. He left home sort of abruptly."

"He and Summer are in the living room telling me the delightful news. Come on in, Ryan. You might as well try and help them talk themselves out of this fine mess they got themselves into."

He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, wishing Mr. Roberts hadn't just put him in middle of everything. Besides, you couldn't just talk yourself out of a marriage and a child. But he followed Summer's dad anyway.

"So." Mr. Roberts clapped his hands as soon as he entered the living room with Ryan close at his heels. Ryan could smell the fear in the room. "You were just telling me that you got married last week but decided to keep it to yourselves for a bit."

It was painful to watch Summer and Seth explain to Mr. Roberts that his daughter was pregnant. Neil Roberts had never cared for Seth. He had tolerated him for Summer's sake, but Ryan could see this was just too much for the older man to bear. He sat quietly, until Neil Roberts finally stormed out of the room, leaving Ryan alone with Seth and Summer.

"You okay, Summer?" Seth bent his head so it was touching Summer's. He rubbed her upper arms. "He'll come around."

"No he won't. But it doesn't matter. I choose you, Seth. Either our parents come around or they don't. It doesn't matter. We have each other."

"You have me too," Ryan interjected quietly. "We'll be there for each other."

They looked up, noticing Ryan for the first time since he had come into the room. "It'll be nice for J.T. to have a cousin and Sandy and Kirsten will be fine with this after they have time to digest everything. They were just shocked. Look at how supportive they've been with J.T. I mean, they've offered everything and anything to make this easier for me, for us. They'll do the same for you. Next thing you know Kirsten will be offering to throw you a wedding reception. Just give them some time."

"Were they pissed when I left?" Seth asked, reminding Ryan of the teenager that had feared upsetting his parents.

"Worried. Why don't you let Summer's dad cool off and come home with me. Sandy and Kirsten will want to see you both."

"You think so?" Seth tilted his head.

"Yeah. I do. They were just a little taken aback. Really. They weren't mad." He stood up. "Come on. Summer you come too."

"Ryan's right." Summer squeezed Seth's hand. "You parents will be cool about this and my dad needs time to wrap his head around everything. Let's go talk to your parents."

Seth got up and followed Summer, but he didn't feel as confident as his wife and brother.

The minute Ryan woke up the next morning his stomach was in knots and though more than half the day had passed, they hadn't disappeared. Theresa was supposed to bring J.T. over in just over an hour and he kept silently sending prayers heavenward to Jesus, Moses and Buddah that everything was ready. He and Kirsten had hit every toy store in Newport from Toys "R" Us to FAO Schwartz and bought whatever they thought would be appropriate for a 4-year-old. Size and money sure didn't seem to matter and Ryan pushed his money qualms to the side. He wanted to give J.T. everything he didn't have. He'd find a way to pay Kirsten and Sandy back… somehow.

He didn't miss Kirsten sneaking in the other toys, the ones meant for a newborn. The Winnie-the-Pooh mobile, not the Disneyfied characters, but the classic ones drawn in A.A. Milne's books and the squishy lime-green teddy bear that they had both nixed as to immature for a macho 4-year-old boy. So Kirsten was warming up to the idea of Seth's impending bundle of joy, Ryan thought, and didn't bother to hide his smile.

"What's so funny?" Kirsten had asked while they were still walking up and down the aisles of the toy store.

"Nothing."

"So why are you smiling like that?"

Ryan shrugged. "Nothing. Really. Thanks for taking me shopping."

"You won't be able to take everything back to your dorm. You'll have to leave most of it at home." She sighed. "We should really consider getting you an off-campus apartment if J.T. is going to visit with you during the semester."

"I can't afford that Kirsten." He held up his hand to object. "Don't say it. I thought about what I'd do and if it's okay with you, I might just come back home. It won't be such a bad commute and then I can have J.T. over pretty often. Theresa and I still need to nail down a visitation schedule."

"Are you sure? We'd love to have you back home, but…" Her voice trailed off. "How is it," she asked, changing the subject, "that you can so easily say home about our house, but still have this ridiculous hang-up about money?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. It's complicated. But you and Sandy gave me my first home and it is a home." He studied the display of Spider-Man action figures, wondering if J.T. had seen the movies. "You and Sandy are like my parents and I'm proud to call you that and to call you J.T.'s grandparents, but when it comes to money I – just – can't."

Kirsten reached out and rubbed Ryan's shoulders. "I don't know a 4-year-old who doesn't love Spider-Man." She nodded encouragingly as he reached out for one of the figures. "And if you decide not to dorm this semester, I could probably get a refund on your housing fees. We could use that towards a car for you. Something simple, maybe used," she said, anticipating his objections. "This way Seth can have the Rover and you can have an easy commute to school."

He looked down at his feet, smiling shyly. Kirsten tousled his dirty-blonde hair. "Sandy and I would love to have the company again. The house has been so quiet… aside from vacations that is."

His eyes fluttered. "I think it would be good for J.T., you know, to see a happily married couple."


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks to **Sister Rose** for going through a fine tooth comb. This chapter needed it. And thanks for all the positive reviews. I'm glad you're keeping with it.

Oh. I don't own it. Better go edit my LJ...

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Summer and Seth came into the room, holding hands, arguing loudly about where they were going to live when school started again next week. Marriage hadn't really changed their dynamic. Ryan ignored them, rushing around the house, strategically placing toys where J.T. could find them, trying not to make it obvious that it was all new and for him.

In the hours between his shopping spree with Kirsten and coming back home, he had managed to finalize the necessary details that allowed him to move back home for the semester. He had jumped into it, not wanting to give it too much thought, afraid he would change his mind if he dwelled too long on his decisions. He was looking forward to moving back in with the Cohens full-time again so that he could make his home feel like a home for his son.

Seth and Summer's arguing wasn't easing up and for a brief moment, he wished they would just knock it off. He sent another silent prayer heavenward, wondering when he had become so religious, but realized if Seth and Summer stopped bickering then J.T. wouldn't have a real sense of who his aunt and uncle were.

Ryan dumped the Spider-Man figure on the couch next to Seth, when he heard the doorbell sound. He glanced at his watch, looking around to see if anyone realized the significance of that bell. It signaled his son's first arrival to his house.

Ryan froze. This was it. It was real. J.T., his son, had arrived. He didn't hear Kirsten's heels clicking against the parquet floors or the door opening or Theresa's soft, nervous babble, at the entranceway. It was Seth who snapped him out of it. First by waving his hands in front of Ryan's eyes and then by gently shaking Ryan's shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"It's just dinner. And mom didn't cook," Seth quipped.

"Seth, he looks green." Summer was peering into his face, invading Ryan's personal space.

Ryan shook his head, as if were trying to shake out the stuffiness he felt from a head cold. He had the same under-water sensation as when he had a cold. "You'll be green too when you're holding your child and realize 'this is it.'"

Neither Summer or Seth had a chance to respond, because at that moment Kirsten entered the family room, followed by Theresa and J.T., who was hanging on tightly to Theresa's hand.

"Hey, J.T." A large smile immediately spread on Ryan's face. He squatted down so he was eye level with the little boy. "Remember me?"

J.T. nodded. His eyes were large and round like saucers. "Daddy."

Ryan's smile widened, making Seth think that it would break his brother's face.

"Yeah." He reached out and offered a fist to J.T. so that they could knock knuckles. He was a true child of Chino, Ryan thought, when the boy immediately responded.

"I've got some stuff to show you in the other room." Ryan took his hand, hoping to gently pry him from Theresa.

It had been difficult deciding how to plan J.T.'s first visit to the Cohen house. Ryan wanted to jump right into it, but Theresa had said it would be too traumatizing for their son. Finally, Ryan had conceded to Kirsten's plan. The first visit would be a short one, for dinner, and Theresa would be present. The next visit would be a little longer and Theresa would leave halfway through, giving Ryan and J.T. some time alone together. They have two more visits like that, where Theresa would only stay a half hour and then ten minutes and hopefully after that J.T. would be accustomed to spending some time at the Cohens' house. Ryan also hoped to visit J.T. in Chino, perhaps having some "guy time" with Arturo and Trey, men J.T. was comfortable with to make the Newport visits easier.

Even so, the plans weren't set in stone. No visitation or custody agreement was in place. Ryan was entirely dependent on Theresa's good will and that frustrated him. He hoped it didn't show. The last thing he wanted was for it to show with J.T.

"Where are we going?" J.T. had reluctantly let go of Theresa's hand. It was only his child-like curiosity that had enticed him to switch from Theresa's cool firm grasp and switch his hand to Ryan's sweaty one.

"This," Ryan said as they entered the little unused room near Sandy's office, "is the playroom." It was near the family room and hadn't been used for much over the years. He had helped Kirsten and Rosa clean it out and they had piled the newly purchased toys in the room, converting it into a playroom by simply adding some toys and pushing the furniture to the side. He had some ideas for finishing touches, but it would wait for when he had some time.

"For me?"

Ryan grinned. J.T.'s eyes were wide with wonder, like a child in a sweet shop who had just been told he could have as much as he wanted.

"For you and your friends and later on your cousins."

J.T. cautiously stepped forward, throwing a glance over his shoulder, as if expecting someone to stop him. He studied the contents of the room, not rushing to play with anything, but looking over his choices very carefully, before deciding which toy he would play with.

"Oh my!" Ryan sensed the displeasure in Theresa's voice right away as she came up behind him.

"Look Mommy," He climbed into a motorized car, "It can drive by itself."

"That's awesome, mi hijo. But that looks like an outside toy. Why don't you play with something else, while I talk to your Daddy. Then we can go into the backyard."

J.T. obediently alighted from the car and settled in front of the toy garage and moved the little Matchbox™ cars up and down the yellow ramps.

Theresa pulled on Ryan's sleeve, so they were out of J.T.'s earshot. "How dare you," she hissed. "You know I can't compete with the Cohens' money. I can't do this for J.T. How am I supposed to bring him home after this?"

"What are you talking about?" Ryan felt like he had been punched in the stomach and the air had been pushed out of him. "I was just making this as comfortable for J.T. as possible."

"It's bad enough I have to compete with a pool and a mansion and the perfect family, but don't throw around the Cohens' money and spoil my son."

"Our son," Ryan retorted through clenched teeth. "That was something you obviously forgot these last four years." His eyes were smoldering as he glared at Theresa. It hadn't been his intention to make things more difficult for Theresa, and how dare she insinuate that was what he was doing.

"This was a bad idea. We should have just waited to finish all of this lawyer stuff."

Ryan felt someone tugging at the end of his shirt before he could answer. He looked down and saw J.T. standing next to him.

"Are you mad at Mommy?"

"No!" _Oh G-d, _thought Ryan, _He had started screwing things up already_. "Of course not. Mommy and I are good friends. Right?"

Theresa smiled, but Ryan could see it was forced. He hoped J.T. wasn't as instinctive as he was at that age. "How about we go check out that backyard now? Grandpa Sandy is probably at the grill with Uncle Seth. We could meet them in your new car."

J.T. happily followed, driving his toy Jeep with lots of starts and bumps.

"We'll figure this out," Ryan quietly told Theresa. "We'll make it work."

He saw Theresa relax immediately; her shoulders slumped as if a weight had been lifted. He wasn't going to apologize for using the Cohens' money, because he knew he'd be dependent on that to ensure he could make child-support payments. As soon as Theresa realized that, he knew she would mind the Cohens' money less.

"J.T. seemed to really warm up," Kirsten said later that evening. She was wearing a loosely tied robe over her striped pajama pants and matching t-shirt. Her feet were propped up on another kitchen chair and she was caressing a mug of tea between her hands.

"He did." Ryan leaned against the counter and smiled brightly. "Theresa on the other hand…" His voice trailed off.

"She'll come around. This will be an adjustment for everyone."

"He's crazy about you and Sandy."

Ryan noticed Kirsten's dopey grin. J.T. had glommed onto Kirsten as soon as they had sat down to dinner around the patio table. He had let her prepare his burger to his liking, adding ketchup, pickles and fried onions. He had insisted that she give him a separate small plate for the ketchup to dip his fries and made sure that the different foods didn't touch each other. Ryan had been at a loss, but Kirsten had instinctively understood the child's way and had surrendered to his quirks.

"We're crazy about him."

Ryan sighed heavily. "What next?" In one long stride he reached the fridge and yanked it open. He peered inside for a moment, studying the leftovers, but passed it over for a bottle of apple juice. "Is this what it's always going to be like? Dinners? Sunday outings? When Theresa was pregnant I nearly gave all of this up," he waved a hand around the room, "and you," he pointed to Kirsten, "so that I could be a real dad. I don't think I can be real dad if I'm only around part time."

Kirsten stood from her chair and moved to stand next to Ryan. She put a hand on his shoulder. "You're jumping ahead of yourself. This is all new to you and to J.T. and to Theresa. You'll all settle into a routine. Sandy will work out a custody arrangement that will ensure you get to spend lots of time together. I know you Ryan Atwood and you will be there for your son. I just wish I was confident that Summer and Seth could pull themselves together in time for this baby. I worry about them."

Ryan squeezed Kirsten's shoulder in return. "They'll be fine."

"Seth, this is ridiculous. We go back to school in two days and we don't know where we're going to live?"

Ryan heard Summer before he saw her. J.T.'s hand was securely in his and they had entered the kitchen, hoping to find a snack before Theresa returned to take J.T. home. He glanced down at J.T. and put his fingers to his lips. He tiptoed to the freezer, over-dramatizing the action to draw a smile from the normally serious and contemplative boy.

"I don't know what to do Sum" Seth said oblivious to Ryan and J.T. "We looked at two dozen places and either they're dumps or we can't afford them. My paycheck isn't going to grow overnight." He slumped down in his seat. "Maybe we should just go back to the dorm."

"That's just wrong," she retorted, not noticing Ryan or J.T. either. "We've been married for two weeks and we're both living in our parents' home – not together."

Ryan couldn't help but snicker out loud. He was in front of the open freezer, digging for the ice cream he was certain Kirsten had bought the other day.

"How long have you been there?" Summer demanded, finally spotting them.

Ryan laughed louder.

"What's so funny, Daddy?"

He finally fond the ice-cream buried in the back. "Uncle Seth and Aunt Summer always make me laugh. They don't even have to say anything." He hoisted J.T. onto one of the tall kitchen stools and put down the ice cream while he foraged for bowls, spoons, a scooper and the ever essential ice cream toppings.

"They don't look funny. Uncle Seth kind of looks sad."

"I'm not exactly sad, J.T." Seth explained. "I'm just sort of trying to figure things out with Summer." He turned to Ryan. "What would you do?"

"Have you thought about asking Sandy and Kirsten if you can move in here?" He finally had everything he needed for a proper ice cream Sunday and held up the colored sprinkles triumphantly. He was rewarded with a huge grin.

"Ew. Ryan, are you mad? I mean, your parents are very cool, but —"

Ryan cut her off. "You can move into the pool house. It has a little kitchenette, so you can cook some of your own meals. You could even offer to pay a token rent, just a few dollars to make it official. They'd also realize they need to keep their distance."

He could sense Seth was warming to the idea, though Summer wasn't convinced. "The extra help might be nice when the baby comes. It's not going to be easy."

Ryan crossed his eyes at J.T., drawing a giggle from him. He was sure he had Seth hooked to the idea, but wasn't sure about Summer. "Besides, the company would be nice. Our schedules aren't terribly different. There are days we could even carpool to school"

"It's a thought Summer." Seth lifted his brows. "Otherwise, we go back to school and live in separate dorms until we find something."

Summer twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. Her eyes flitted around the room and landed on the bowl of ice cream Ryan was pushing towards J.T. She stood up and walked towards the counter. "Can I have some of that?"

J.T. hugged the bowl closely to himself. "Daddy made it for me."

"Hey, J.T.," Ryan admonished gently. "What about sharing?"

Summer watched J.T. stick out his lower lip and his eyes began to water.

"That's okay, J.T. I was asking for my own bowl. I don't like sharing much either." She saw him visibly relax. "Is it good?"

J.T. nodded. "If you want, you can taste it so that you know if you want the same toppings." He held out a spoonful of his ice-cream.

Summer beamed. "That would be great." She bent down to take the spoon he was offering and rubbed her stomach in an exaggerated motion. Ryan couldn't help but notice the tiny bulge forming in her belly. "Perfect!" she exclaimed. "I'll have one exactly like that." She slid in the stool next to J.T. and raised her brows at Ryan. "Get to it, please."

"Yes, ma'am." He picked up the scooper and prepared another bowl, carefully eyeing J.T. while working. He hadn't expected him to get so emotional at such a gentle rebuke. He was grateful to Summer for alleviating the otherwise tense moment. He took out two more bowls when Summer had her ice cream and scooped out ice cream for Seth and himself.

They were all sitting or standing around the counter, heads bent over their bowls when Summer exclaimed, "It's not a bad idea, Ryan. I think we should ask Sandy and Kirsten if they agree to let us live in the pool house."

"Agree to what?" Kirsten strolled in the room, from the patio, with Sandy at her heels. Their hair was wet and their clothing damp and sticking close to their bodies.

Summer and Seth looked at each other, trying to communicate silently like they had watched Sandy and Kirsten do all too often. Before they could say anything J.T. jumped in.

"They want to move into the poll house and live with you."

"J.T.!" Ryan didn't know whether to laugh or scold. His eyes darted around the room and landed on them on Summer and Seth. He saw Summer's shoulders shake, as she covered her mouth with her hand. Seth was holding onto her; his shoulders were shaking too. Ryan smiled while Sandy and Kirsten still looked perplexed.

"What J.T. said," Seth finally spat out. "But I'd prefer the pool house." He explained Ryan's idea to his parents and waited for an answer.

"I don't know, son. Are you sure?" Sandy asked.

"I can't say I'm thrilled with the idea of moving back to Newport as a newlywed, but it's our best option and it is temporary. Mom?"

"It's a thought. If it's okay with your dad and you and Summer are comfortable with the idea… if you're sure…"

Kirsten was still having a hard time with the fact that her baby was a married man and that she was going to be a grandmother again. But she wasn't upset anymore and she was happy that Seth was so calm (for Seth) and content. She had always thought Summer was a good fit for him, and her opinion had never changed. As she watched them interact more and more she was more confident that all would work out, if only she and Sandy would show them love and support in what was going to be a very tumultuous start to a marriage.

"We'd share in the cooking and groceries," Summer insisted. "We'd want to make it our own place as much as possible. I don't mean redecorating," she added hastily.

"Fine," said Sandy. "We can iron out the details later."

"Does that mean we can all eat ice-cream together when I visit?" J.T. piped in.

"Yes it does." Summer tousled his hair. "And pizza too. I would really go for some pizza with my ice cream."


End file.
